Alice in Underland: The Final Return
by Diabolical Pink Bunny
Summary: It has been ten years since Alice had last been in Underland and her life had been full. Yet a restlessness had set in her life just as she is once more drawn to Underland to save them one last time. Will this be her last time in this enchanted land?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Alice in Wonderland' – neither the Disney versions nor the original books._

_Note: I know this might start out different than wat you are used to from me (or Disney), but (if you are indeed someone who has read my work before) just trust me: stories often tell more about the author than the characters. And have I disappointed you thus far?_

**Chapter 1**

The warm night air brushed against her naked body; cooling the sweat as she looked out at the Basilica di San Marco across the moonlit water. Moonlight caught on the prancing horses on the balcony, but Alice hardly saw the stunning sight. Slowly, as always when in thought, her hand reached up and played with the gold-and-jet pendant she wore around her neck – the only thing she was wearing, in fact. It was a small thing; not worth much, that she had picked up on her very first trip to China. It was a small, stylised golden raven inlaid with jet. At the time she had wondered about her inclination to buy it, yet now it somehow seemed to be the only real thing in her life. Right now she was willing to give up everything else as long as nobody tried to take the pendant from her.

"Come back to bed," a sultry male voice called from behind her. Slowly she turned around, aware the light behind her cast her in shadow while lighting the man on the bed. She suddenly realised she had forgotten his name: he was just one other she had met in her journeys around the world and he, too, suddenly seemed immaterial. The need he had satisfied only minutes ago suddenly seemed immaterial; unreal.

"Thank you for your time," she softly responded. "Now get out," she told him and turned her back on him, dismissing him: already forgotten.

But he was not the type to be idly dismissed like that. Within a heartbeat the man was off the bed and had grabbed her by the hair with his right hand. By the hair he turned her around to face him; bending her head painfully back. She had little choice but to look at him.

"You little harlot!" he spat at her with his thick accent. "I am not some toy to throw away," he added.

It suddenly occurred to her that he was quite capable of raping her right there. And who would believe that she had not wanted it? Though she might be a rich, successful woman, she was none the less cast out from certain circles of respectability. No one would believe it was rape.

She suddenly also realised this was the most excitement she had had in a long time. The rush of feeling and emotion she had sought in her travels had worn stale in time. Then she had turned to other forms of emotion, but even that had now turned sour – long before tonight, in fact.

She also realised that though she was in a situation that will probably cause her much pain, she was not afraid: not of him or any man. Indeed, she relished the idea of him attempting to hurt her. Not that she liked pain, but because she knew she would never submit without a fight. It was this coming fight she felt in her veins.

"I have killed the jabberwocky," she calmly informed him. "You do not scare me," she added as she stared into his furious eyes.

"Crazy bitch," her lover of only half an hour earlier suddenly spat. Suddenly he flung her away from him with enough force that she fell against the wall and bruised her hip. As she regained her balance her hand reached for the dagger she always kept near: it was hidden in the folds of her cloak lying on the floor.

But she had no need of it, as the man retreated back to the bed; picking up his pants. With deft hands he put them on and grabbed the rest of his clothes while muttering under his breath. In less than a minute he had put that on as well and was heading out the door. With a resounding crash he slammed it behind him as he disappeared from her room and her life for good.

Alice was still standing by the window and now she slowly sat down on the wide ledge. She pulled her legs up under her chin and folded her arms around her knees. The breeze soothed her and slowly her beating heart slowed down. Her fingers touched the pendant around her neck and she lay her head down on her raised knees.

Tomorrow her ship will be sailing for England and she will be on it. Perhaps there she will find an answer to the restlessness that had been building inside her for so long now.

"Why is a raven like a writing-desk?" she whispered into the warm summer night even as her fingers played with the pendant: ceaselessly running it back and forth on its chain as the wind finally rocked her to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Alice stood to one side in Ascot Hall, looking at the assembled people. Most everyone was aristocrats, with only the few rare exceptions. The party was one thrown by the new Lord Ascot. Less than a month before, while Alice had still been on her way back from her last trip to China, the original Lord Ascot had suddenly died of his heart. Now Hamish was the new lord of the manor and already Alice despaired.

She turned her head slightly to look at the preening Lord Hamish Ascot and his mousy little wife. She nearly shuddered at the idea that once she had almost been guilted into marrying the red-haired man. Time had not been friendly; nor had years of feasting helped. The weak-chinned red-haired young man had turned into a plump, balding man. His wife, standing demurely beside him, was not much better. She was at least ten years younger than her husband, with mousy hair, an impressive overbite and little chin. Alice smiled to herself as she realised she knew exactly what their children must look like: like them, for though the new Lady Ascot had mousy hair and Hamish red, they looked alike enough to have been siblings.

Then Alice sighed to herself. Hamish was her new partner in trade. Ten years ago she had signed up as an apprentice in the company originally owned by her father, but bought over by the old Lord Ascot a few years after his death. Since then Alice had worked herself up to junior partner and recently to full partner. But as the Ascot heir, Hamish had inherited everything, including half of the company. So though Alice had evaded marrying the man, she would now be forced to do business with Hamish.

Wonderful.

Someone strolled by with a tray laden with delicate flutes of champagne, and she snatched one up. Carefully, ladylike she took a small sip even though she would have preferred drinking it quickly. With this crowd she needed every ounce of control though. Ten years ago she had shocked this same community in the process of securing her freedom. What she had not realised back then, though, had been the fact that these people seldom forgave one for past trespasses and never, really, accepted you back into their midst once you have severed the ties of what they considered decent.

And now, suddenly, she knew that no matter how rich she ever became, she will never again be allowed into decent society. Though they would not be turned away, they would avoid her and freeze her out. And indeed, where would she fit in? She looked over at a group of women, young and old, gossiping together. Even when she had been considered decent, those gossips had held little appeal to her. She looked over at a laughing group of men. She lived more in their world than in that of the sheltered women, yet she was never considered one of them. Her life might be closer to that of the men, but they have never treated her as an equal, as a man. She could join the group now, but she would just end up being delicately shunned, and within minutes the group would break up: each going their own way.

Suddenly Alice felt the pain of that aloneness. With a shrug of her shoulders she sighed and suddenly she felt like screaming. In an effort to distract herself from her thoughts, she tilted her head back and looked up at the ceiling almost two storeys above. A few years back Lord Ascot the elder had fitted it with great mirrored panels. If one wanted to, one could watch the entire ballroom from above in the reflection.

It took Alice just a second to find her own reflection in the mirrors. A dispassionate observer would have noted that the promise of her loveliness as a young lady had been met as her prettiness had blossomed into a stunning beauty. Her skin was pale and delicate and her golden hair had darkened only slightly without losing its richness or curl. This she wore on top of her head, pinned with a single jewelled comb. Her body was strong and perhaps slightly leaner than fashion dictated, but her long, delicate arms were offset by the cut of the powder blue dress she wore.

What Alice saw as she looked at her reflection was a single woman alone amidst a swirling, laughing mass of beautiful people. Around her they danced and gossiped and smiled, but she was a single, still figure caught within the mass. Almost for comfort her hand came up and touched the small, bright pendant around her neck.

The moment her fingers closed around it, she thought she saw a scurrying movement at the edge of the crowd. Immediately her head snapped back and she frowned slightly as she regarded the people in the direction that the movement had been. None of them moved with any more speed than usual: which was not very fast at all.

"Alice," a delicate voice spoke next to her. Alice turned to find her sister – now slightly shorter than her younger sister and pregnant with her third child – standing at her elbow, smiling. "Come, a group of women are withdrawing to the conservatory," she informed Alice. Distractedly Alice nodded.

"Very well, I will join you within a few minutes," she assured her sister. Since Alice had caught Lowell in the garden ten years ago, he had been a dedicated husband and her sister had flourished. Alice sometimes wondered – fleetingly – if she would have been as content in marriage as Margaret. She doubted it, no matter the person. Marriage to Hamish would have crushed her, she suspected. Or, if she was more honest with herself, she would probably have tried killing him by now. She threw a quick glance at the man who would have been her husband, but was distracted by the same scurrying movement as before.

"Margaret, did you see that?" she asked her sister.

Margaret at least had the decency to turn her head in the direction Alice was looking. "No, dear," she smiled at her sister. Alice frowned slightly.

"It looked like..." she began and suddenly she realised what the movement had reminded her of. She smiled, but it was a smile of astonishment more than pleasure. "It looked like a white rabbit," she told her sister. She turned her head slightly to look at Margaret. "I love you very much," she told the older woman. "And I believe of all the people I know, you are the only one who understands why I had done what I did," she earnestly spoke. "I thank you for that gift. But if you will excuse me for a moment, I will be right back," she added even as she squeezed her sister's hand lightly between her own. Then she turned and made her way quickly through the throng of people to the side entrance where she had seen the movement. Her heart raced and for the first time in a while she truly smiled with pleasure. Had Nivens McTwisp really found her again?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Her life had made Alice strong and fit and she easily followed the flitting figure racing through the underbrush. Mostly she only followed the movement left by the figure, but every now and then she could distinctly see the plume of a white tail.

Yet Alice soon found the delicate dancing slippers she was wearing – as well as the corset she had donned – were not made for running. Her feet were bruised and her chest felt constricted. Fortunately – if she remembered correctly – the entrance to Underland was just around the corner and behind a huge old tree.

Her life might have made her fit, but it did not grant her any dispensation of seeing, and her foot caught in a root and Alice fell to the ground: scraping the palms of her hands and tearing her dress. Well, she was not going to use it much, anyway, she reckoned.

By the time Alice had gotten up from the ground, the fleeting shadow she had been chasing had disappeared. For a moment panic gripped her as she thought that she had been mistaken and it had indeed not been McTwisp come to take her back to Underland. With a feeling of dread she got up and took a few steps in the direction she had been going before her fall. The moon was out, but the path was leading into the trees and it was nearly pitch-black only a few steps in front of her. Again her hand came up to touch the cool stone of her pendant.

"Well, Alice," she spoke aloud just to hear a sound. "The only way to be certain whether it had been McTwisp or not is to head into the dark wood and see," she tried to encourage herself. As she stood staring at the wood, she wondered at her fear. She was the same woman who had killed a jabberwocky. She had saved a world from an evil tyrant. She had cast aside all ties of society and had sailed into the unknown on a small, wooden ship. So why would the idea of continuing into the woods frighten her so much?

She took a deep sigh and carefully took one single step. Then she took another and another and within a dozen steps she was out of the moonlight and in the dark forest. Her hand was clenched around the pendant of a raven she wore.

Suddenly she saw a faint light off to her left. It was emanating from the ground. Like the monsoon washes the shore away, her fear was swept away by the relief of realising she had found the entrance to Underworld. In her experience one could only find it if one had been invited.

Twice before she had been issued that invitation, and both times she had turned her back on the creatures of Underworld to return to her own. She had never imagined that she would be issued a third.

She kneeled at the entrance and smiled. "Father often believed six unbelievable things before breakfast," she spoke into the night. "I need to believe in only one unbelievable thing," she said as she leaned forward.

And then she was tumbling down the hole. She suddenly realised that no matter the fact that she will survive this fall; this part of the adventure was the most terrifying. It was worse than slaying a jabberwocky and worse than crawling into a bandersnatch's lair. It was even worse than standing lost and alone in the middle of an enchanted forest.

As she plunged a teacup bounced off her forehead. Moments later she passed a huge bed, but hit the pillow next to it.

Finally the nightmarish journey ended with her falling onto a chequered floor with an _oomph_! Slowly she sat up, mentally checking whether anything was broken. After a moment she decided she was merely bruised and pushed up from the floor.

The room she was in was the final part of her admittance into the wondrous world of Underworld. But first she needed to unlock the right door.

Slowly she turned in a circle, looking at all the doors in turn. Finally she stood looking at a part of the wall covered by a long velvet curtain. With a sigh she picked up the key on the table and tried it in the small door behind the curtain. As she suspected, it unlocked. As it did, she heard voices coming from the other side, but the words seemed far-off and she could not hear what they were saying.

Alice walked back towards the table and looked at the bottle of _pishsalver_ on it. The bottle even had a neat little tag with 'Drink Me' on it. After a moment she kneeled and opened the small box beneath the table. Inside she found a prettily decorated square of _upelkuchen_. On it was written 'Eat Me.'

Alice sighed once more. "I really hate this part," she said as she placed the key next to the _upelkuchen_. Then she reached up and took the bottle of _pishalver _from the table and unstoppered it. Even as she brought the drink to her lips, she suddenly thought of something. Carefully she reached for her pendant and unlocked the silwer clasp at the back of her neck. Then she laid it next to the key.

"There will not be a better time, Alice," she spoke aloud – mostly to drown the voices still coming from the other side of the small door. So she brought the bottle up to her lips and took a swig of the spicy brew. Almost immediately the tingling of transformation started at the top of her head and worked its way down her body. By the time it had reached her toes, she was huddled within a world of powder blue cloth; standing inside one of her shoes.

"Well, they had been useless out in the world anyway," she said as she stepped barefoot out of the slippers. With some effort she tied her chemise with a piece of ribbon around her body and stepped out into the tiled room.

The pendant was now much bigger compared to her small size, but none the less she wound the chain a number of times around her neck. Then she stuck her arm through the remaining piece of chain and left the raven to dangle on her hip like a book bag.

With a smile she picked up the huge key and ran over to the door behind the curtain. As before, the key turned effortlessly and the door swung open on a sigh. Warm air flowed out and engulfed her, along with the smell she now recognized as jasmine.

Without a backwards glance she stepped through the door and into Underland.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Alice closed her eyes and turned her head into the warm, fragrant breeze. Behind her she heard a faint click as the small door shut behind her. For a moment she wondered whether she shouldn't have taken either the _upelkuchen _and _pishalver_ or at least the dagger she usually carried. But even as she thought about it, she realised neither of those would have done her any good. The odds that she would ingest just the correct amount of either the _upelkuchen_ or the _pishalver_ and return to her correct size, was slim. And due to her current size, the dagger would have seemed more like a huge sword than a convenient little blade.

Suddenly the breeze carried both the sound of voices as well as a smell of damp and rot to her. Alice opened her eyes and looked around. The grass was as soft under her feet as she remembered and the sky as clear. The smell of rot, though, was new. Without hesitation she stepped forward and onto the footpath that started only a few steps in front of the small door. A dragonfly (the kind where it was actually a small dragon with frantically beating insect wings) swooped past. As she was about knee-height, the dragonfly was more the size of a large bird than a bug. She watched it as it swooped over a flower. Suddenly another popped out of the flower and the two dragonflies flew off in a dance. Alice smiled slightly.

"Well, Alice, that isn't something you see every day," she told herself. As her voice died away, she heard the sound of voices again. With a slight frown she set off in the direction from which they were coming. Why would the voices not greet her, seeing as she suspected they must belong to friends? Always before had they been waiting for her?

Alice stepped into a small clearing. In the clearing stood a number of flowers with faces, but they seemed to be asleep. For a moment she wondered whether she should even bother waking them. The flowers had always been hostile towards her. Yet she needed to find her friends, and perhaps these blooms would be able to assist her.

"Hello," she softly greeted them. A long moment nothing happened, but then a deep red rose opened her eyes. With the slowness of a flower seeking the sun the rose turned her head to look at Alice.

"Come to save the day again?" the flower finally asked, but Alice could see her heart wasn't in it. Obviously something was bothering the rose and she had merely responded to Alice's greeting out of some sense of obligation. Immediately after speaking to Alice the rose's head sagged and she seemed to wither in front of her. The rose's eyes closed and she seemed to expel a long, fragrant breath. The scent of roses filled the air, but the bloom would not respond to any further questions by Alice.

Finally Alice stepped back from the flowers and slightly tilted her head to listen. The whispering she had heard earlier seemed to be carried from far away on the wind. She could neither hear what the wind was whispering about or whether the voices were those of her friends. The last time she had been here, the whispering had been the Tweedles and Mallymkun chatting. But this whispering did not sound like them. Actually, if Alice had to be honest, it sounded angry; malicious.

Turning her back on the rude flower, she continued on the path. She suspected she will never be friends with the flowers.

For another few minutes she followed the faint footpath. Though there were a number of large flowers with faces to be seen, the path was lined on either side with normal, smaller flowers. After a while the path rounded a clump of bushes and Alice found herself in a clearing. In the clearing stood a large mushroom. It was a very familiar purple and red mushroom with a very familiar fat blue caterpillar on it. The only difference, as far as Alice could discern, was that the constant cloak of blue smoke was missing.

"Absalom?" Alice asked tentatively with a smile. But then the caterpillar looked at Alice and the eyes it turned towards her were definitely feminine. It was then that Alice noticed that the caterpillar wasn't smoking that dreadful pipe, but idly eating from a large plate of cookies. "Who are you?" Alice asked the blue worm.

"The real question is: who are you?" the caterpillar asked and took another bite from a cookie. It regarded Alice with cold, impartial eyes.

Before Alice could answer, though, a number of familiar figures stepped out from behind the large mushroom. The dormouse – who was only slightly smaller than Alice at the moment – brandished her sword at Alice.

"Yes, who are you?" the mouse demanded. She seemed a fierce as Alice remembered.

The two fat boys nudged each other. "It sure doesn't look like our Alice," the one told the other. "But it has to be our Alice," the other replied. "Sure it is, she even has a blue dress," the first informed his brother. As they continued, the white rabbit lowered his head into his paws and sighed.

Joy filled Alice for the first time in years and she actually felt a laugh bubble up from somewhere inside her. And then she could no longer contain the feeling of happiness inside her and she started laughing. For too long her life had been one without laughter.

As she stood laughing, the Tweedles nudged each other again. "What's wrong with her?" the one that had spoken before demanded from his brother. "Clearly she's gone around the bend," the second replied.

Mallymkun looked over her shoulder at Nivens McTwisp. "This one is crazy," she told the rabbit. Nivens merely shrugged.

"She seemed sane enough earlier," the white rabbit replied. This, of course, nearly sent Alice into another fit of laughter, but before she could even draw enough breath to do so, a loud crashing sounded to her right. Then the foliage parted and a large spotted creature crashed into Alice. The bandersnatch pushed his nose against Alice – poking her in the belly – and actually lifted her off her feet in his enthusiasm. Unable to deny the creature, Alice threw her arms around its flat nose and laid her head between his eyes. The fur of the creature was surprisingly soft and she assumed he had been looked after these past few years.

"Good day to you," she greeted him. "At least one of you has missed me," she told the bandersnatch. The laughter of moments ago suddenly threatened to become tears. This big, clumsy-seeming creature had once been willing to ride into battle with her on the sole reason that she had given him his eye back – and freed him from the Red Queen. She, of all people, did not deserve his loyalty. A tear did break free then as she realised she did not deserve any one of their friendship.

For another moment the two of them stood like that, a single tear running into the soft, spotter fur. Then Alice let go and turned towards the small welcoming committee that still regarded her with slight trepidation. "Good day, Mallymkun, McTwisp, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum," she said and inclined her head slightly at each as she named them. "It is wonderful to be back in Underworld," she informed them.

At her words Mallymkun lowered her sword and the Tweedles grinned. In their strange gait they shuffled forward and flung their arms around Alice. Seeing as they were double her size, she nearly disappeared in the hug.

"It still doesn't mean she's sane," Mallymkun griped as the Tweedles shyly stepped back. Alice frowned at Mallymkun.

"I believe in a world where animals and flowers talk, where the sun shines even though we are underground and where I can shrink and grow in size just by consuming something. Of course I'm not completely sane," Alice told the fierce dormouse. "But who is completely sane?" she finally asked. Mallymkun sheathed her sword as she considered the question. Then she smiled.

"The March Hare, perhaps," she answered Alice. The Tweedles nodded at that and Alice laughed. Of all the creatures in Underland, Thackery Earwicket was perhaps the least sane. He was scruffy, twitchy and smelled slightly of old socks. But he was part of this wonderful world; the world she had missed every day for the past ten years.

With a smile still on her lips, Alice turned towards the caterpillar – who had consumed a rather large part of the plate of cookies by now. "I am Alice," she informed it. "But I'm sure we have never met."

The caterpillar nibbled on a cookie for a moment. Then she turned lazy eyes on Alice. "I am Tomar," she informed Alice before nibbling on the cookie once more. The name meant absolutely nothing to Alice and if it wasn't for the fact that she was incredibly happy at seeing her friends again, she would have been annoyed at the caterpillar's attitude. Only Absolem had the right to talk to her that way: he had been incredibly wise, after all.

One of the Tweedles stepped forward slightly. "She's Absolem's daughter," he whispered and after a while Alice nodded in understanding. It was never easy to follow in a great person's – even if that person had been a rude blue caterpillar – footsteps.

"Tell me, Tomar," she addressed the daughter of Absolem. "Why have I been called here?" But it was Mallymkun that answered.

"There's something terrible happening to Underworld," she informed Alice. "And we didn't know who else could help us," she added as Alice frowned. McTwisp hopped forward and handed her a large rolled book. Alice recognised it as the _Oraculum_, a calendrical compendium of Underworld. Carefully she reached out and took the roll from the rabbit.

As her hand touched it, though, it suddenly felt alive and she dropped it to the ground. One end landed on a small blue toadstool, but the other end kept on rolling past her feet. As it unrolled it sparkled and hissed slightly. At first it unrolled to the end: the last entry of note being Alice's fight with the jabberwocky. But then the roll seemed to grow amidst the sputter of sparks and unrolled even further. The events revealed started with Alice looking down on the book roll. But as the living pictures danced across the paper, a dark ink stain seemed to roll in to finally obliterate everything. The _Oraculum_ ended with the entire page covered by it.

"Oh, no!" Mallymkun breathed. "It is the _Darmend_ day!" she exclaimed. "It is the black mist!" she exclaimed and seemed to shrink as is she had drunk _pishalver_.

Alice carefully leaned over and looked at the blackness obliterating the end of the page. Then she looked at each of those gathered at the foot of the mushroom. "Perhaps it is time you told me what this is all about," she informed them. But they looked at one another and the bandersnatch actually seemed to cringe. Finally McTwisp hopped forward and started to roll the _Oraculum_. As he did so he told Alice under his breath:

"I think it is time you spoke to Hightop." It took Alice a moment to realise who they were talking about, for it was a name she had heard only once before. In fact, in her own mind she had always only thought of him as the Hatter. But the moment Alice realised who McTwisp was referring to, her belly made a strange flop. Her hand strayed to the pendant that hung by her side. She had longed to return to Underworld for so long now, had longed to return to her friends. Yet there was only one which she had felt she had betrayed by leaving. And though she knew she had to face him sometime, it was the one meeting she dreaded. She also knew it was the one meeting she could not hide from.

"Very well," she finally managed to say. Then she turned towards the bandersnatch, who lowered his head. Quickly she scrambled onto his back and the moment she was secure behind his ears, he leapt into that peculiar rolling run of his. They were off to see the Hatter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

As Alice and the bandesnatch travelled paths that were both strange yet achingly familiar to her, Alice's mind wandered to her previous adventure in Underland. Though high up from the ground, Alice felt secure enough on the bandersnatch's back to let her mind wander. In fact, because of her diminutive size the creature's hair was nearly as long as she was tall and it had settled around her like a new forest.

In her life Alice had known a number of men. First there had been her father, who had been her world. Then there had been Hamish that had been eager to ask her hand in marriage. Yet even as he had kneeled in front of her, she had known the only reason he was asking was because his father, the late lord Ascot, had felt a need to protect her. Hamish had asked her because of his father, but not because of her.

After that there had been numerous men; some chivalrous and some not so much. Of those, most had sought an alliance with her because of her position in Lord Ascot's shipping company. Few had sought her out because of who _she_ was, and none had asked her to stay. Except the Hatter – Tarrant Hightopp. And she had left.

Lost in her thoughts it took her a moment to realise a dark wisp of smoke was keeping pace with her and the bandersnatch. But as she looked up and spotted the wisp, is suddenly pulled ahead of them and started to change. Obviously the bandersnatch was quite used to this as he leisurely stopped and stood looking at the wisp of smoke – that was now wearing a grin. Moments later the smoke solidified to become another familiar face.

"Why, it is the Cheshire Cat," Alice smiled, her troubled thoughts aside.

The Cheshire cat had on a lovely hat with a dark pink ribbon, and he actually took it off to greet her. "Well, who else you know of that have evaporating skills?" he asked after his initial greeting. He now played with his hat, obviously attempting to draw her attention to it. But first Alice gave his question due consideration. In her mind a blurred procession of faces passed by. Though she would have liked many of them to have stayed awhile, most had left too soon. The men in her life would inevitably always be gone by morning – so to speak. She grinned ruefully.

"You would be surprised at how many," she answered truthfully.

By now the Cat was sitting on top of his hat; idly kneading it, and Alice had no choice but to acknowledge its presence. "I see you've finally managed to acquire a hat," she told him. "It is quite magnificent," she complimented him. But the Cat suddenly looked – or at least attempted to look – bashful and slyly eyed the hat he now held at arm's length.

"Oh, this thing," he purred. "I hardly notice it anymore." With a sigh he plopped it on his head. "Besides, it had not been on nearly as much adventures as the Hatter's hat," he scowled.

Alice's grin vanished at the mention of the Hatter. "How has he been," she carefully asked of the Cheshire Cat. And was it just her imagination, or had the bandersnatch stiffened slightly at her question?

The Cat sighed deeply. "Well, how well would you be after so much tragedy has befallen you?" he idly asked. As he spoke he turned in the air and now regarded Alice upside-down.

Panic filled Alice. "What has happened?" she demanded of the Cat. McTwisp's words had seemed to indicate the Hatter was well enough to see her, but now the Cat's word's seemed to indicate something else.

The Cat turned around to lie on his front paws. "Well, there was that nasty business some years ago with the jabberwocky and the red queen..." he began. Alice promptly interrupted him.

"Yes, I know all that," she bluntly informed the Cat. "I was there, remember?" she nearly snarled at the Cat. "Has something else happened?"

The Cat slowly drifted closer and now looked at her with irritation. "Yes, I remember," he purred. "That also means you were there when he lost someone he cared about," he added. He looked pointedly at Alice. "She left to go live her own life far from here," he added. Then the Cat suddenly looked bored and drifted away again. From the same spot in the air he had occupied earlier he regarded the tree next to him; unwilling to make eye-contact with her. "Hightopp was never the same after that," he idly informed the tree and Alice felt the weight of ten years pressing down on her.

Before she could comment, the Cat evaporated and she knew he would not show himself again until he saw fit. She did not even bother calling out to him.

Wearily she slumped down on the bandersnatch's back. Lightly she stroked one of his soft ears. "Let's continue," she bravely told him. Immediately the spotted creature set off in the direction they had been heading before their meeting with the Cat, but now his pace was more sedate; matching her mood.

As they continued along the path she wondered at herself and her decision years ago to return to her world. Ah, but she had to return to that world in order to realise in many ways it was not her world. But what if the price she had to pay for that realisation was that her friend could never forgive her for leaving Underworld?

Finally the path led to what had been a forsaken clearing only a few years ago. But now the clearing was filled with bustling life and lovely, bright shops. The grass and the trees was green and whole once more and everywhere gay creatures of all shapes and sized mingled under the green bows.

The bandersnatch skirted around the clearing to finally stop in front of a small shop at the end of the line. It was a red building with a black tile roof and dainty white lace adorning the front. Huge windows displayed a number of hats and Alice knew they had finally reached their destination. Slowly she slid off the bandersnatch's back and together they entered through the glossy black door. A small bell sounded as the bandersnatch pushed open the door.

Inside the shop it was much as she would have imagined it would be. Hats in various stages of completion adorned every available shelf. At the back of the shop two dummies flanked a large bench on which the Hatter's equipment was spread. To one side was a full-length mirror in a plain wooden frame. A single hat had been left hooked on the top knob of the frame.

For a moment Alice thought she and the bandersnatch were alone in the shop, but then a voice suddenly came from behind the bench.

"Ah, now I've got you!" the Hatter exclaimed before he popped up from behind the bench holding a pin. It was this pin he was addressing. "For a while you thought you could escape from being used to hold old Dame Fewly's hat together, did you not, my little friend?" he asked of the pin. Of course the pin did not answer.

As the Hatter continued to berate the pin, Alice had a moment to study him. It was most definitely the same Tarrant Hightopp she had known before, but time has changed his appearance. He was dressed in neat, new clothes and his hair had grown out to fall to his shoulders and his whole bearing was much more confident than before. Yet on his head he still wore the same battered hat.

"Hatter," she finally spoke up when there came a lull in his single-sided conversation with the pin.

The Hatter spun around; coattails swinging. Then he grinned. "Why, if it isn't the bandersnatch, come to visit me!" he exclaimed. Then he frowned. "But was it my imagination – and I'm sure it wasn't – but did you address me with a slight, feminine voice? I can't readily recall you sounding like that before. In fact, I can' remember you sounding at all before?" he asked of the animal. The bandersnatch turned his big head to look at Alice and she stepped forward.

"Hatter, it is I that spoke," she spoke again; sure the Hatter would now turn angry at the sight of her. But instead he pulled a monocle from his pocket and fell to his knees in front of her. With a flourish he put the monocle on and peered at her, but then he suddenly chucked the monocle over his shoulder.

"Can't see through the thing," he informed her. Then he looked at her once more and frowned. "Well, don't you have the smallest little head," he informed her. "I doubt if anything I have will fit, you know," he continued as he looked at her. Moments later he popped back up and leapt over to a cupboard set in one wall. He pulled open a drawer and bits of cloth suddenly rained down around Alice.

"I have hats for normal heads and huge heads," he told her. At the mention os a huge head she looked over at one of the awful creations he had made for the red Queen years ago. It was mounted on a watermelon on top of a shelf. It seemed dusty. "I have hats for long heads and fat heads and flat heads," he continued, "but I doubt if I have a hat for such a small head."

"Hatter!" Alice finally broke through his monologue. Tarrant took a deep breath and smiled at her. "It is me, Alice," she told him as he did not seem to have recognised her. Had she changed that much?

The Hatter frowned at her. Then he shook his head. "No, you cannot be Alice," he told her and her heart sank. "Alice was a girl of very uncertain size, you know," he said and nodded his head. "She never could settle on a proper size, and you seem much too small to be so confused," continued. Alice felt unfamiliar tears well up inside her. And before she could stop the treacherous tears from falling, she felt the wetness of them on her cheeks.

"Hatter, please," she begged him, but part of her knew it was too late. As the Cheshire Cat had tried to warn her: the Hatter was not inclined to recognise her. Yet years of dreaming of her return compelled her to try one more time. Seemingly of its own accord her hand reached for the raven pendant at her side. "Hatter – Tarrant – I know you are angry at me, but could you ever find it in yourself to forgive me?" she begged of him.

As she spoke the Hatter became very still. A look of pain crossed his peculiar features. As she fell silent with only her tears falling down her face, he kneeled in front of her once more. Then he gently picked her up in his cupped hands and she found herself sitting on his palms as he brought her up to his face.

"I could never be angry at you," he solemnly told her. He smiled slightly, gently. "Welcome back to Underland, Alice," he finally greeted her.


End file.
